Chapter 38
CHAPTER 38
Kate
Five years earlier…
I pulled out my phone from my pocket and snuck a look from underneath the counter of the barista. Still no response from Holden. It had been two days.
Two days might not seem like a lot to most, but it was the longest Holden and I had gone not talking in ages. Since the foiled audition in New York, actually.
The last I’d heard, he’d given me an update on Duncan that made me sick to my stomach.
He likely will never walk again.
All because I had to fight Addison over the stupid bloody sheets.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was my fault. Luckily, we’d all given our statements to the police and they had ruled it an accident… no one was being charged with anything, not even drinking underage.
I couldn’t tell if luck was on our side… or if it was that Dorsey money and influence that saved us.
For once, I wasn’t sure I cared.
“Could I get an almond milk latte?”
I nearly dropped my phone, I was so startled by the voice in front of me.
I looked up to find Nate standing there at the counter with an older guy standing next to him.
“Hey,” I said, forcing a smile on my face.
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go on with my day… my week… my semester… knowing I’d nearly killed a guy.
But my bills still needed to be paid, even though Holden had taken care of the cost of my dorm room. So I got to work, serving up coffee to coeds.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “What did you say you wanted again?”
“An almond milk latte,” he repeated. “And he’ll have a cortado.”
“You got it,” I said, turning over my shoulder and calling their order out to my coworker.
“This is Christopher Slaine,” Nate said, as though I should recognize the name. “Chris, this is Kate Harris. She played Ju ? —”
“Juliet, yes,” Christopher said, taking my hand. “You were excellent.”
A blush heated my cheeks and I dipped my chin as visions of Holden and I on stage beneath the sheet rushed into my mind.
His hands tugging my body suit aside.
My fingers wrapping around his girth.
The first painful slide inside of me that abruptly melted into toe-curling pleasure.
I cleared my throat and touched my fingertip to the sweat starting to dot at the back of my neck. “Thanks,” I said, pausing to cough into my fist. “It was an ensemble effort.”
“Was it?” Christopher said with a tilt of his head. “I have to say, your Romeo was a little wild… off the cuff.”
Nate snorted. “Understatement of the century,” he murmured. I shot him a look and Nate’s cheeks immediately turned pink.
It killed me that everyone in my class knew what had happened on that stage.
Shame and guilt and embarrassment mixed together in a nauseating cocktail and spiraled in my stomach every time I had to look at one of them. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it through the next few years of school.
“It’s very much the trend right now to make these edgy choices,” Christopher continued, not seeming to notice mine and Nate’s exchange. “But I prefer more traditional Shakespeare, like your interpretation.”
“Um… thanks,” I said again. “I also like traditional Shakespeare. It’s so rich with history and poetry, I don’t think it’s necessary to do more to make it interesting. Although when a reinvention is well done, I have to admit, I’m kind of a sucker for it.”
Christopher winked. “Except they’re rarely well-done, right?”
I hid my smile. “I plead the fifth.”
“Chris is a producer,” Nate added, pointedly.
“Oh…” I said, a confused look passing over my face.
“I’ve actually secured the rights to Venus in Fur Off-Broadway,” Christopher said. “I think I may have finally found my Vanda… this new up and coming actress. Missy Howl.”
“That’s incredible,” I said, feeling a bit numb. All this small talk about theater was punching an unhealed wound. I hadn’t gotten a single offer after the Kennedy Center, even though several of my classmates had been offered summer internships already. For all the praise I’d received for my role as Juliet, it didn’t seem to be doing me much good if I can’t get other jobs.
I should be happy for my classmates. The more of us who succeed, the more we can help each other… right?
But I couldn’t help the gnawing question racing over and over in my mind: What the hell was I doing here in this program if I didn’t get a single offer after playing Juliet in front of so many casting directors?
“Who’s playing Thomas?” I asked.
Nate cleared his throat. “That would be me.”
“Oh my God. Nate!” Despite my own sadness over the lack of offers, I couldn’t help but feel elated for him. Nate was quite literally, the best of all of us. He was supportive and sweet.
I rushed around the counter and threw myself at him, hugging him tightly. “That’s amazing, congratulations! What about school? Are you leaving?”
He nodded with a quick look at Christopher. “McCay said she would hold my spot in the program for a year, so I can do the show and potentially come back ? —”
“Unless he keeps getting work,” Christopher chimed in, then turned to look at me. “It’s a shame you weren’t able to accept my offer, Ms. Harris.”
“Your offer?” I said with a little self-deprecating snort. “What offer?”
Nate and Christopher exchanged odd glances. “The offer for Vanda.”
This time, I laughed outright. “I didn’t get an offer for Vanda.”
Christopher’s dark brows lifted, deepening the wrinkles in his brows even more. “Well, I sent one to your professor the other day and I received notice that you politely declined.”
“You… you sent me an offer? An offer for the lead role in an Off-Broadway show?” Even though my voice was barely above a whisper, he heard me just fine.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
I clutched my stomach and the painful blow cramping my gut was so potent that I had to actually look down to make sure I wasn’t bleeding out. “I… is it… is it too late to accept? I swear, I never got that offer.”
“How is that possible?” Nate asked, turning to look at Christopher, concern pinching his features.
“It’s not a good look for your professor, I’ll tell you that much,” Christopher muttered, his jaw twitching. “Unfortunately, I’ve already sent contracts over to Missy Howl.”
Fuck me.
No wait…
Fuck Professor McCay.
Even after I gave her an incredible Kennedy Center performance, her sole goal as a professor is still to sink me. What the hell was her problem?
A featherlight touch skimmed beneath my chin as Christopher gently tilted my gaze to his. “You’re very talented, Ms. Harris. You’ll have plenty of other opportunities, I have no doubt. Keep your chin up and don’t let petty people break your spirit.”
Before I could answer, a loud noise came from the back of the cafe and I jumped, spinning toward it.
My world collapsed at the sight in front of me.
It was Holden—my Holden—making out with Addison.
Beside me, I heard Nate’s sharp intake of air, then distantly, he said, “Kate, don’t ? —”
But I was in a vortex. The whirlpool had caught me and it was drawing me deeper and deeper down until I was standing in front of them, somehow holding his Economics book which had fallen.
“Is this for real?” I whispered. “Addison?”
The world around us fell away as conflicting emotions warred inside of me. There was an intense numbness surrounding what I knew would be the most painful experience ever. Like when you accidentally cut your finger and you see the gushing blood before you feel the pain. My nerve endings were having a hard time catching up to the moment.
Beside him, Addison tittered. “You didn’t actually think he loved you, did you?”
“I wasn’t asking you ,” I snapped. Addison was a conniving bitch. Even though I’d witnessed it myself… I needed to hear it from him. Because I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe what I’d just witnessed. Holden would never… could never… “Holden?” I croaked.
“I got what I needed,” he said.
The words skimmed over me. He got what he needed? What… what did that even mean?
“And he told me all of it,” Addison continued on his behalf. “Who do you think showed me those bloody sheets after your ‘scene’? I have to say, I’m impressed. I didn’t think a little virgin like you had that sort of kink in you… oh wait. We can’t call her the little Virgin anymore, can we baby?”
I watched, mesmerized as her long fingernails slid into his hair and she leaned in, tracing her nose up his jaw.
A jaw I had kissed more times than I could count.
Push her away, I thought. Push her away from you. Tell her you’re mine.
But he didn’t. Slowly, Holden’s whiskey gaze darkened and lifted to mine. “You’re telling me I can buy your fucking panties. Buy videos and pictures of you touching yourself. Treat you like a whore. Get drunk on stage with you and fuck you for the first time in front of hundreds of peers and strangers… and the thing that is the dealbreaker is a goddamn kiss from another woman?”
The air knocked from my lungs. His words were a sobering punch to the gut that left me speechless.
It didn’t matter that I had no response… because he kept right on talking. “You nearly murdered my best friend,” Holden said. “So maybe I can get away with fucking another girl or two, don’t you think? Isn’t that a fair trade?”
Tears filled my eyes as my worst fear was realized. He did blame me for Duncan’s accident. Not Addison. Not himself. Me.
And the worst part was, I wasn’t sure I could fault him for it. Because I blamed me, too. I didn’t realize how desperate I was for him to tell me it wasn’t my fault until this very moment.
Everything bad happening to me, I’d brought on myself.
I made the choice to sell my panties. I agreed to send videos and pictures to him. I got together with a man who told me time and time again how he would destroy me. And I didn’t listen.
I thought I was different.
But the truth was… I’m not different.
And I’m not special.
Plain little Kate Harris loses again…
And will always lose.
Today. Tomorrow. And until the end of time.
No one was looking out for me… but me.
A scream tore from my throat as I threw the heavy book at Holden and stripped the apron off from around my neck, tossing it aside.
Don’t trust a single fucking person. Maybe I should thank Holden for that lesson. Because little Kate Harris needed to toughen the fuck up.
This was rock bottom.
The only solace I had in this moment was the fact that no matter how awful things would get for me…
Nothing could be lower than this moment here.
As Holden’s whore.
As McCay’s bitch.
They had succeeded in fucking breaking me.
But that was the thing with sea glass, wasn’t it?
Years broken and buried in the sand can produce something beautiful.
Give me time.
I’ll shine again.